The shriveled sunflowers that flank the road between Jerez and Ronda seem to be the symbol of that atrocious drought that Andalusian farmers curse and that weave together the beautiful landscapes of Cádiz and Malaga. Arriving in Ronda is a spectacle that will astound those who have traveled there for gastronomic reasons: the city of the Tagus, with that bridge that overlooks the overwhelming ravine, is home to one of the most interesting restaurants in Spain.
In that same space, the successful career of Dani García began, the great chef from Málaga about whom a film would one day have to be made and for whom, Ronda confesses, “it will always be special”. So he was called Tragabuches. It would be in 2016 when one of his cooks, born in Catalonia and from Ronda by adoption, took the reins and turned him into Bardal.
What goes on in this place is only as interesting as the chef who sets his course, with no strict sense of ownership. Benito Gómez never talks about his kitchen or his restaurant, but about Bardal and the faithful team that make it up, and whom he dreams of taking out one day from the hot and gloomy cabin where they have been preparing prodigious dishes for seven years with no other views than the bland tiling of the walls.
It's damn hot in there. But in his brilliant head, Benito Gómez has been cooking for a long time in front of a window that crosses the landscape of the Serranía and through which the aroma of aromatic herbs permeates. The man impatiently awaits the day when they can move Bardal to the beautiful estate of La Melonera, a winery that is advancing in the recovery of old grape varieties, like the one that gives it its name, which we will try during our visit to the place. It will be following in the light footsteps of a Benito who spreads enthusiasm by showing every corner and shelling out those plans slowly cooked over years, to give life to a personal project that has to go beyond the restaurant.
You already imagine those crops of foreign ingredients: "It is what all the towns did throughout history to expand the pantry." He already sees himself weaving new complicities with the winemakers of La Melonera, to explore paths that will help them create products that he misses in the area and with which he would like to contribute to enriching Ronda's culinary heritage.
This chef born and culinary trained in Catalonia does not think, far from it, of leaving a legacy of creative dishes, techniques or concepts, despite the fact that the merits of his cuisine have already earned him two stars in the Michelin guide and two suns in Repsol. What he really wanted is to contribute products to that land of his ancestors that he discovered in the summers of adolescence (what a danger, they say, that boy with green eyes) and from which he assures that he can no longer get away . Because he fell in love with her and took root from her.
A decade before Bardal, he opened Tragatá, a successful house of excellent tapas and dishes run by Merche Piña, his partner and accomplice in absolutely everything. Just trying the fried ear with brava sauce, the salad, the pastrami sandwich or the flan (she came up with the magic formula during the pandemic) is already worth the visit. But be warned: be prudent if you are going to dine the same night at Bardal.
Speech? “I don't have a speech”, affirms this character who flees from verbiage like the plague. A guy without hair on his head or on his tongue who claims his work as "cooking, simply." He is not even included in what we call haute cuisine. “I only do the cooking that I really like, although I greatly respect those who defend a speech. But I don't have it and I don't look for it”.
He is wrong when he affirms that there is no common thread between his dishes that contributes meaning to what he does and that each preparation is free. That is not the perception of those who taste their menu, with the feeling that everything fits together and comes from the same voice, the same motivation and the same line.
It is obvious that creations such as the delicate and refreshing broth of vegetables, herbs and figs come from the same place; that picaña with green pepper; that zucchini blank, tender almonds and green tomato; the Iberian espardenya; the delicious red mullet in pil pil sauce with green peppers; or the oiled quail stuffed with white sausage and black sausage juice. All this with registers between the light and the unctuous, with mastery of traditional techniques, the fascination for those sea i muntanya of his native land, the apparently simple cuisine but in reality laborious and complex, with flavor always at the center, among Catalonia and Andalusia.
In Bardal's kitchen, all the styles of classic preparations are touched: there they roast, pickle, roast, fry the skins, marinate, work on the sauces... And, perhaps most importantly, it is always done thinking about the immediacy, in the preparation at the moment. Perhaps it is because of this obsession, because of the determination to stay at the foot of the stove, because of his lack of interest in appearing or because they are both disciples of Jean Luc Figueres, that Benito Gómez is somewhat reminiscent of Jordi Vilà, from Barcelona's Alkimia and Al Kostat.
Bardal's chef hates clichés. Don't talk to him about a gastronomic experience, don't ask him for a title for his tasting menu. Because yes, he believes in the long menu through which his cooking is expressed. None of the great houses in which he grew up remain; nor that of the long-awaited Jean Luc Figueres, nor Las Pedroñera, of the great Manolo de la Osa; nor the Hacienda Benazuza, under the umbrella of El Bulli; nor that Tragabuches of which he took the reins. That is why, perhaps, Bardal has so much courage.
